Rewind
by MiM99
Summary: She reminded herself that this guy wasn’t Cassidy, she didn’t know who he was, but he definitely wasn’t Cassidy. How 'Not Pictured' could have ended, and trust me, this aint pretty. Mac&Cassidy, I guess. COMPLETE


**Disclaimer: Actually, I own the plot. The characters? Not so much.**

**A/N: How 2.22 could have ended, and trust me, this aint pretty at all. Try to remember that this is fiction, so if anything seems to be impossible, it probably is. It's the big picture that matters (; **

**Now, as always, drop a comment or two, and let me know if you like it or not.**

**- ****Rewind - **

The water fell against her naked body, hot against her silky skin. She smoothed out her dark hair, running her finger through it over and over again until it was clinging straight to her back. Her eyes closed as a million thoughts ran through her mind, but she tried to push them back.

She wasn't supposed to cry, she had promised herself she wouldn't. She just needed to shower away of all the negative things she was feeling, and then she would be fine. There was no need to cry. But as her tears melded with the water drops, she knew she had no control over it.

Her boyfriend wasn't able to be intimate with her. Sweet cute Cassidy apparently wasn't as attracted to her as she was to him.

A strangle sob escaped her mouth and she quickly moved her hand to cover it. He probably wouldn't hear, but she wouldn't risk it. It was bad enough that she was hurting; she didn't want him to know that. She had told him it was okay, and he needed to believe that. He was still far too unconfident, this, this could ruin everything.

She sighed to herself and then turned off the shower. She still felt dirty, fat and ugly, and she hated that a boy was able to do that to her, especially this boy. He hadn't meant to, she knew, and maybe, if she hadn't pushed him for this, everything really would be fine.

It was all her fault.

Pushing away the tears, she stepped out and was overwhelmed with the silence. The quietness was unbearable. She could just imagine him sitting on the bed, his head in his hands and his lips trembling, as he tried to hold in his cry. He was like that, trying to keep everything in.

She shook her head, clearing her head. Her eyes began searching for the towel, she had lain out, but it was gone. A frown appeared on her face.

"Cassidy?" she asked, her voice quiet.

No one answered.

Her mind began working overtime as she poked her head out the door and didn't see her boyfriend. The sheets were gone, too, as were his bags and basically everything else. She walked out quickly, not really caring that she was naked and exposed.

When she noticed that her own bag was gone, another sob escaped her. Her feet seemed to move on their own will and she paced around the room, opening everything closet, every drawer. But nothing was there, everything was gone.

She understood suddenly. He had left, abandoned her here, in the hotel room, where she was supposed to lose her virginity.

This time she let the tears flow without any embarrassment.

--

It could have been minutes, hours, since he left, she didn't know. It felt like she had been crying for days and yet the tears had no problem coming.

She finally put herself together and stopped crying. She was still nude, something she hadn't really noticed before, but now it felt all too wrong. The shower curtain was the only thing, that were left, so she wrapped it tightly around her body and tried to ignore how rough it felt against her soft pale skin.

After calling the hotel, they promised to come with some clothes for her. And so she waited. Perhaps it only took 5 minutes, but it felt like days, as she waited on the cold floor, her hands clenched in tight fists, the nails digging into her sensitive skin.

Finally, there was a knock on the door, soft and gentle, and for a few seconds she thought it was him coming back to her.

When she opened the door, a dark-haired woman was standing there, looking at her with sad eyes.

"Here are your clothes, miss," she said, handing her the neat folded clothes. She saw her eyes scan her body quickly, but she didn't say anything to her unusual clothing, and Mac was happy. "Oh, and someone left a message for you. A Veronica Mars?"

The brunette's eyes looked up, widened slightly. She took the note and she said politely thank you to the woman before she closed the door and sat down on the bed, her eyes trained at the small piece of paper in her hands.

Her hands shook as she read the note, and suddenly, it all made some twisted sense.

"Oh God, oh no."

She wondered how it was that Veronica Mars was always right.

--

As soon as she opened the door, a cold wind met her. She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging the jacket, that the lady had come with, closer to her. Her hair flowed in the wind as she stepped out slowly, making sure her feet were moving as quietly as they could.

She heard his voice immediately, but she almost didn't recognize it. It wasn't the voice of her sweet boyfriend, this guy sounded so mad, so angry. Deep and dark, just pure cruel.

She felt her body shiver as she got closer. His voice became louder and she could see the two figures. He was hovering over Veronica, who was lying on the ground lifelessly. The taser, Veronica's, she figured, was tightly grasped in his hand and a smirk was on his thin face.

Her heart almost stopped as she thought of the possibility that she was too late, that he had actually gone and done just what she feared he would do, but then she heard the sob that escaped her best friend. It was heartbreaking, more so, because the Mars girl never cried. She was the essence of tough, and now she looked so lost, so broken.

And her boyfriend was to blame.

She didn't step closer, her body felt too heavy, her feet like big rocks that couldn't possibly be moved. A part of her hated herself for not running over to rescue her friend immediately, another part of her felt ashamed for actually being afraid of her own boyfriend.

She reminded herself that this guy wasn't Cassidy; she didn't know who he was, but he definitely wasn't Cassidy.

"_Now jump!"_

"_Please don't."_

With wide eyes, she watched as he stood up and moved a few feet away from the blonde, throwing the taser behind him and instead taking hold of a gun. She tried to stop the trembling of her lips and the noises, that desperately tried to escape her mouth.

Her eyes locked on the black piece that had landed not far from her. A wind had picked up and she could feel a few raindrops land on her pale face. She wasn't sure what gave her the strength, perhaps it was the way her best friend cried, maybe it was that she saw who her boyfriend really was for the first time or perhaps it was the fear that controlled her, the possibility of what he would do if she didn't act first.

Her steps were small, but it only took six until she could bent over and grab it. Neither of them had noticed her, it was only when she stood right behind him, that Veronica saw her. She sent her a sad smile as she touched the taser to Cassidy's body.

A pained yell came from him and he dropped the gun, falling to the ground. Before she knew it, her shaking hands had reached for it.

The gun felt out of place in her hands, her hands too petite, her fingers too small for the big pistol. She had never held a gun before, not even a toy one. It seemed wrong, but when she heard the strangle cry, she did it anyway. Aimed the gun at the air and shot just once.

The sound made him turn his neck to look back. Her eyes landed on Veronica, was dared smile just slightly, a look of hope on her face.

"Cin."

She moved her gaze from the blonde to the boy standing less than ten feet away from her. His eyes seemed to become his again and he looked so confused, that she almost dropped the gun. This boy didn't look like a murderer; he just looked like a troubled boy.

Her mind reminded her that he had been sending god knows how many volts through her best friend just a few minutes before, and her grip tightened around the gun.

"C-Cassidy." With her voice trembling and shaking, it became almost unrecognizable to her. "What… What the fuck are you doing?"

"He killed them, Mac. All of them-"

"Shut up!" Cassidy's voice cut off Veronica's desperate one, and his eyes stayed on the brunette. "Cindy, you need to go, you weren't supposed to… Just get away, now. You don't want to be here. I have to do this!"

She couldn't help but look into his eyes just for a split second. She didn't want to believe him, didn't want to let herself fall for his excuses. Her hands moved without her knowledge and the gun was suddenly aimed at him. "Get away from her, now."

He tensed for a brief moment, but there wasn't any fear in his eyes. Not like there was in hers, she was sure. If anything, he looked as though he had already given up.

"She is going to ruin everything, Cin," he whispered.

She shook her head, over and over again until she felt nauseas. "What, Cassidy? How could she ruin everything?"

His eyes closed and she noticed his hands clenching by his side. She hated herself for wanting to take away his pain, even after all of this.

"I can't tell you."

"Tell me."

The shaking of his voice and the tears, that fell down his cheeks silently, were slightly unexpected. "You won't love me anymore. You'll look at me with disgust, just like anyone else." He shook his head urgently, running a hand through his steamy hair, a look of distress on his face. "I just want to _forget_. She," he continued, turning his back to her and looking at Veronica, "she won't let me. She _needs_ to go."

Her mind went blank the minute he stepped closer to the blonde and the only functional parts of her body seemed to be her arms, eyes and mouth. Only two words left her mouth as she closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

She pulled the trigger without looking, and a quiet cry followed the loud bang.

Her eyes opened slowly and her gaze landed on him. His body had landed on the ground not far from her, red soaking his shirt from the hole in his chest. His eyes, dead and cold, were looking out at nothing and she noticed that there weren't the slightest sign of a smile on his face.

She looked up from the lifeless body and locked eyes with her friends as it suddenly started raining fully, soaking them both.

--

It was early in the morning, when she got home. Even though it was morning, it was dark. It seemed as if the dark dominated the light, or perhaps the world just wasn't ready for another day yet. It was still raining, too, and the sky was dark with black greyly clouds, that could only mean that thunder would soon be following.

Her bedroom was exactly the same. Everything was where it had been before, always in place, almost like nothing had changed. Which, in reality, it probably hadn't for most people. Many people had known who he was, but only a few had known _him_.

Then again, maybe no one had really known him.

She didn't bother to be quiet as she passed the bed and went to the bathroom. Her parents were sound asleep as always, and she was sure even Ryan was done with the videogames, he played at night without their parents' knowledge. They slept peacefully without knowing that their own daughter had shot someone.

She didn't mind, her mind and body was too tired for her to explain everything.

The first thing she did was stop by the sink, turning the water on and began scrubbing her hands. She could see blood on them, deep red blood, _his _blood, and she desperately wanted to wash it away. But it wouldn't go away, no matter how much water and soap she used. It was permanent, maybe not on her skin, but in her mind.

"Go away. Go away. Go away."

The cry that escaped her sounded too heartbreaking for her, and the tears that following made her feel too weak. She lifted her eyes to look at the mirror and stared back at the reflection. It wasn't her she saw, instead all she could see was him, the brown-haired boy, staring back at her with sad questioning eyes, whispering the one word that kept echoing in her head.

"_Why?"_

As always, it was left unanswered.


End file.
